Sometimes while riding, his thoughts would stray to Padmé on her deathbed. Speaking of Anakin, her last words had been, “There’s still good in him.”
And then he would think of how he had left Anakin to die on Mustafar.
He tried to suppress such thoughts. The problem was Obi-Wan remembered so many good years with Anakin, and really had loved him like a brother. It was still so hard for him to believe that Anakin had turned to evil. And even after all the unforgivable things he had done under the name of Darth Vader, Obi-Wan still found himself missing his friend Anakin Skywalker.
He also thought of Qui-Gon Jinn. Yoda had explained to Obi-Wan that Qui-Gon’s consciousness had survived as a spiritual entity, and described his own exchanges with Qui-Gon’s disembodied voice. Yoda had also instructed Obi-Wan how to communicate with Qui-Gon, but so far, Obi-Wan had yet to hear from his Master’s spirit.
The suns had almost set as he approached the perimeter of the Lars homestead. As usual, the security lights were already switched on and a few KPR servant droids were patrolling the area around the underground compound. On previous evenings, Owen had emerged from the entrance dome to check the droids before returning below ground for the night. Obi-Wan had come to interpret Owen’s action as a signal that all was well, and that it was time for him to make his way back to his hovel. But on this night, Obi-Wan found Owen standing several meters away from the entry dome, carrying a blaster rifle, and waiting for him.
Owen held the blaster rifle so it was aimed at the ground. Obi-Wan wasn’t surprised to see the weapon, as Owen always carried it when he stepped outside at nightfall. But even without Jedi powers, Obi-Wan could see the man looked jittery.
“Hello, Owen,” Obi-Wan said as he brought the eopie to a halt. “Is something wrong?”
Owen nodded once. Obi-Wan began to dismount, but Owen held up one hand and said, “Don’t bother. What I have to say won’t take long.”
Obi-Wan kept his eyes on Owen as he shifted his weight back onto the eopie.
“I’m not sure how to put this,” Owen continued, “so I’m just going to say it. The way you come around my place…it bothers me.”
Obi-Wan sighed. “I’m sorry, Owen. But as I told you, I need to make sure that the boy is—”
“Wait,” Owen interrupted. “My wife and I are the ones raising Luke, right? That’s what we agreed to?”
Obi-Wan nodded as he wondered where the conversation was going.
Owen said, “Well, I didn’t agree to you checking on us daily, let alone twice a day. I don’t mean any disrespect, but I’ve been keeping Tuskens off my property for years, and…well, I think you coming here so often is just a bad idea!”
Keeping his voice calm, Obi-Wan said, “Owen, I assure you, I don’t question your ability to handle the Tuskens. But as we’ve already discussed, it’s not the Tuskens I’m worried about.”
“Oh, right,” Owen said. “It’s the Empire. But then let me ask you something.” Owen swallowed hard before he continued. “If you’re so concerned about the child’s well being, why don’t you try staying away from us? Didn’t you ever think what would happen to Luke if the Empire tracked you down and found you living in my backyard?”
Owen’s words left Obi-Wan momentarily dumbstruck. Then he shook his head and said, “Forgive me, Owen. You’re absolutely right. I’ll be more careful. More discreet.”
“That’s a start,” Owen said. “Again, I don’t mean any disrespect, but…my wife and I can’t raise Luke in any ordinary way if we know you’re always lurking about. Understand?”
“Yes,” Obi-Wan said. He expected—maybe even hoped—that Owen was going to say something more, but when he didn’t, Obi-Wan said, “Good night, Owen.”
Owen nodded once again, then turned and headed for the entry dome. Obi-Wan turned his eopie around and guided the creature back across the desert.
Obi-Wan continued to monitor Luke, but from greater distances and without any obvious routine. He had no reason to remain in the hovel near the Lars homestead, so like the transient who had lived there previously, Obi-Wan moved on.
He eventually found a slightly more spacious derelict structure in the Jundland Wastes, a small, domed-roofed hut that sat on a bluff at the southwestern edge of the Dune Sea. Like so many other buildings on Tatooine, it was made of synstone, a mixture of crushed local rock and dissolvants that could be cast into almost any shape. The hut was approximately 136 kilometers from the Lars homestead—farther than Obi-Wan would have preferred, but probably still too close to satisfy Owen Lars. From what Obi-Wan could see, no one had lived in the hut for a very long time. An old moisture vaporator stood beside it. Obi-Wan checked to see if the vaporator worked. It didn’t.
To confirm whether the hut was indeed abandoned, Obi-Wan traveled to the property bureau in Tatooine’s capitol city, Bestine. Inside the bureau, on the wall beside the information desk, there was a holographic map of Tatooine. Obi-Wan’s eyes happened to fall on a broad, flat-topped mountain that the map identified as Ben’s Mesa.
That sounds familiar, Obi-Wan thought. Then he recalled the loudmouth Dug who had been on the same flight that had brought him to the sand planet.
An antique, oval-faced droid clerk wobbled up behind the information desk, looked at Obi-Wan through tarnished photoreceptors and said, “May I help you, Mister—”
“Ben,” Obi-Wan replied flatly. “I’m interested in a piece of property. The location coordinates are Alpha-1733-Mu-9033.”
The droid clerk turned his photoreceptors to a databank monitor and entered the coordinates. A moment later, he replied, “There are no filed claims or liens for the property at Alpha-1733-Mu-9033, Mr. Ben.”
Not sure he understood, Obi-Wan said, “In other words, the place is available?”
“No one lives there,” the droid answered curtly. “No one wants to live in the Jundland Wastes.” But then the droid’s head made a clicking sound as it evaluated the situation, and added, “Do you want to file a claim, sir?”
Obi-Wan considered making a claim under an assumed name, but then decided against it, knowing that he had a better chance of maintaining a secret presence on Tatooine if he stayed off of any official records. “No, thanks,” Obi-Wan said as he moved toward the exit. “I think the property should remain as it is.”
“As you wish, sir,” said the droid, not really caring one way or the other.
Obi-Wan’s next stop was a hardware shop, where he used most of his remaining credits to buy all the tools and supplies that he could afford and his eopie could carry.
Excluding the hovel he had lived in during his first weeks on Tatooine, Obi-Wan had never inhabited a place by himself for any great duration. Like most Jedi, he had lived much of his life at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. Now, living in an area on a world where even the most basic supplies were difficult to obtain, he was hardly prepared for the work required to restore the abandoned hut. But while he monitored Luke over the months that followed, he also threw himself into making the hut as livable as possible. He had no idea how long he might reside on Tatooine, but he wouldn’t be a very useful Jedi if the roof over his head came crashing down on him.
There was a surprising amount of wildlife in the Jundland Wastes. By watching various creatures, including his own eopie, Obi-Wan learned where to gather berries and vegetables. By watching womp rats and other omnivores, he also determined which animals were edible. His Jedi reflexes enabled him to catch the fast-running, two-legged rodents called scurriers as easily as most people could pull an amphibious gorg from its primal root puddle. But if he had to choose, he preferred the taste of gorgs.
For all of Obi-Wan’s self-sufficient achievements, there were some things he simply couldn’t do on his own. He required special tools and materials to fix and clean the moisture vaporator beside the hut, the stove in his living area, and the water cistern in the cellar. He was fortunate that a passing clan of Jawa traders took notice of him one day and parked their massive sandcrawler nea
r his hut. Evidently, the maroon-cloaked creatures had become aware of the strange man who had moved to the Jundland Wastes, and were impressed by the fact that he had survived as long as he had. The Jawas were happy to share their tools and some spare supplies with Obi-Wan, especially after he offered to share some food with them.
Obi-Wan further gained favor with this clan after he noticed three young Jawas had taken a liking to his eopie, which he encouraged them to take as a gift from him. The Jawa leader responded by chittering and gesturing at the sandcrawler to convey that he would be happy to give Obi-Wan rides to the cities or settlements, which was exactly what the Jedi had hoped he would do. After all, Obi-Wan no longer required an eopie on a daily basis, and sandcrawlers traveled faster.
“Thank you, my friend,” Obi-Wan answered the Jawa chief. “I just might take you up on that offer. Please, call me Ben.”
Not long after befriending the Jawas, Obi-Wan rode with them to Anchorhead, a wind-scoured settlement about twenty kilometers east of the Lars homestead. Anchorhead was a small community and trading post, with about a dozen pourstone stores and two small cantinas. One of the larger buildings was Tosche Station, which supplied energy to most of the area moisture farms. Obi-Wan had told the Jawas that he was in search of either parts or a replacement for his hut’s moisture vaporator, as he still hadn’t managed to get it working properly, but he had another reason for making the journey. Using the Force, he had anticipated that Luke was heading into Anchorhead with his aunt and uncle.
Obi-Wan was in one of the cantinas, The Weary Traveler, having a drink of water as he watched Owen, Beru, and Luke. They were at the provisions store across the street from the cantina. Beru was carrying Luke in a sling that she wore over her chest. Obi-Wan had been careful to position himself so the Lars family would not see him. He was glad to see they all looked healthy and happy.
The cantina had an old hyperwave repeater that was broadcasting intermittent HoloNet displays of recent news reports from across the galaxy. Obi-Wan was looking at Luke when he thought he heard a female HoloNet reporter say the word “Jedi.”
Obi-Wan looked to the cantina’s HoloNet display, but a sudden burst of static interrupted the broadcast. He turned to human man seated two tables away and said, “What was she saying?”
“Band of Jedi were killed on Kashyyyk,” the man replied.
Oh, no, Obi-Wan thought.
The broadcast resumed. The Empire claimed Kashyyyk had been plotting a rebellion. Imperial forces not only killed the unidentified Jedi but also thousands of Wookiees. Hundreds of thousands more Wookiees had been imprisoned.
Obi-Wan’s mind reeled as he thought of the slain Jedi. What were they thinking? They should have gone into hiding, not drawn attention to themselves! Couldn’t they foresee what would happen to the Wookiees?
The HoloNet display squawked and flickered again, then displayed an image of a dark figure, someone clad in black armor from head to toe. Although the audio transmission was garbled, the images conveyed that this armored being or thing played a major role hunting down and executing the Jedi.
Then Obi-Wan heard the reporter say the name Darth Vader.
A few minutes and another glass of water later, Obi-Wan picked up his rucksack and staggered out of the cantina. Although he had not forgotten that he had come to Anchorhead to check on Luke, his mind was no longer focused on staying out of sight from Owen Lars. His thoughts were on Vader.
He couldn’t believe it. Somehow, Anakin had survived the duel on Mustafar, and had resumed his Sith title of Darth Vader. Obi-Wan had concealed his lightsaber beneath his robes, and as he walked along Anchorhead’s main street, his right hand’s fingers wrapped around the weapon protectively.
Did I drive Anakin deeper into the dark side by abandoning him on Mustafar?
Could I face Anakin again?
If I did, could I kill him?
Across the street, he saw Beru, carrying Luke as she walked beside Owen, moving from one store to the next. Fortunately, there were a few dozen other people walking about, and Owen and Beru were still unaware of Obi-Wan’s presence. But as Obi-Wan’s eyes locked onto the Lars family, the Jedi felt more uneasy than ever.
Should I warn them about Vader? Should I take Luke away from them? Hide him away on an even more remote world?
Obi-Wan had been trained to be fearless. But as he thought of Luke’s safety, he was almost overwhelmed by the anxiety that swept over him. And then, from out of nowhere, he heard a disembodied voice—sounding not through his ears, but directly into his thoughts—that caused him to stop in his tracks.
“Obi-Wan.”
Recognizing the voice immediately, Obi-Wan stopped in his tracks. “Qui-Gon! Master!”
Obi-Wan was suddenly, acutely aware that anyone on the street might think he was talking to himself. Not wanting to be branded as a lunatic, he quickly moved into an alley between two stores. Although he had many questions for Qui-Gon, the HoloNet broadcast prompted him to first ask, “Master, is Darth Vader Anakin?”
“Yes,” Qui-Gon’s voice replied. “Although the Anakin you and I knew is imprisoned by the dark side.”
Standing in the alley, Obi-Wan scowled. “I was wrong to leave him on Mustafar. I should have made sure he was dead.”
“The Force will determine Anakin’s future. Obi-Wan: Luke must not be told that Vader is his father until the time is right.”
“Should I take further steps to hide Luke?”
“The core of Anakin that resides in Vader grasps that Tatooine is the source of nearly everything that causes him pain. Vader will never set foot on Tatooine, if only out of fear of reawakening Anakin.”
Genuinely relieved to hear this, Obi-Wan said, “Then my obligation is unchanged. But from what Yoda told me, I know that I have much to learn, Master.”
“You were always that way, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said, his words unexpectedly fading out. But Obi-Wan knew they would speak again.
Though he was not fearful anymore, Obi-Wan stayed to watch over Luke, Beru, and Owen for a while longer, until it was time for them to return to their respective homes.
The next time Obi-Wan visited Anchorhead to obtain supplies, he found an unusual rectangular-shaped item in a junk shop. The shopkeeper was apparently unfamiliar with the item’s function, and was using it as a shelf to display a small selection of used power couplings. But Obi-Wan—now known locally as Ben—recalled handling similar objects in the collection of the Jedi Archives, and recognized the “shelf” as an ancient, leather-bound book.
Obi-Wan moved the power couplings aside and opened the book. Incredibly, only a few pages were slightly discolored, and all were blank. He had never considered writing a journal before, but suddenly realized that a journal would be a good way to preserve information about the Jedi.
Information that Luke might need someday.
Holding the book up for the shopkeeper to see, Obi-Wan said, “Do you know if this thing will burn properly?”
The shopkeeper shrugged. “Beats me what it’s good for, Ben,” he said. “But it’s yours for a credit.”
Ben did not haggle.
Ben Kenobi had been on Tatooine for nearly two years when he learned about an unusual increase of atrocities committed by Tusken Raiders. According to fragmented reports, the Tuskens had attacked three moisture farms and left seven colonists dead in a single day. But what disturbed Kenobi even more than the killings was the unnerving disturbance in the Force that came with them. It was as if a dark presence had touched upon the desert world, creating an almost tangible trace of evil in the air.
Could it be the Sith? Ben didn’t know. All he could do was keep a closer eye on Luke.
Leaving his home in the Jundland Wastes, he found a bantha that had strayed from its herd. Because taming such beasts was a simple task for a Jedi Master, Ben was soon riding the bantha, heading southwest. He had intended to travel directly to the Lars homestead, but was just a few kilometers into his journey when he neared the ruins of
the Tusken camp—the same one he had discovered not long after his arrival on Tatooine, from the back of his old eopie—and he came to a stop.
The camp ruins always emanated a dreadful feeling whenever Ben traveled near it, and he had never felt compelled to inspect it more closely. On this particular day, the feeling was worse, practically sickening, and yet Ben sensed that the place was somehow beckoning him. He tried to urge the bantha forward, but the bantha took only two cautious steps before it came to a halt, then snorted at the sand and refused to budge.
Because the Tuskens had used bantha ribs as supports for their huts, Ben could hardly blame his mount for wanting to keep her distance from the ruins. He dismounted, leaving the bantha as he walked closer to the ruins.
Amidst the remnants of one hut, he noticed a bantha rib arch with dark spatters on it, the kind of spatters only blood could make. Then he saw two rawhide strips that dangled from the arched ribs. Noting the height and position of the rawhide strips, Ben knew immediately that they had been used to secure a captive human’s outstretched arms.
And then it hit him.
This is where Anakin’s mother died.
Ben didn’t just sense it, he knew it for a fact. For a moment, he resisted the urge to tear his eyes from the rawhide strips because he feared that if he looked away, the ruins might disappear along with the knowledge that came with them. When he did finally pry his gaze from the bloodstained arch, he saw the numerous bones that poked up through the sand around and throughout the ruins, bones that were much too small to have come from banthas. Shmi Skywalker had not died alone.
Ben did not have to guess who had slaughtered the Tuskens.
“Now you know,” said Qui-Gon Jinn’s disembodied voice.
Ben was still so stunned that he didn’t even slightly flinch when he heard Qui-Gon, whose voice sounded as if it came from above and behind Ben’s head. Ben said, “Why didn’t you tell me about this?”
Lives & Adventures Page 8